5 People in a lifetime
by vinkunwildflowerqueen
Summary: House has to talk to a dying patient who challenges him to find 5 people who have impacted him and who he has impacted. Who does he choose? Why? And what revelations and consequences will arise from his choices? Hameron. Read the sequel "Cameron's Choice"
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: House isn't mine.**

5 People in a lifetime

Phoenixgirl23

AN. Sorry, guys the prologue didn't come out as I wanted it to, but I hope its good enough. And you may be disappointed with the ending, but I'm planning a sequel, it seemed better this way. And sorry the chapters are so short! Also sorry if you disagree with what i wrote about any of the characters and their relationship with House. I just wrote as i interpreted, as best i could whilst leaning towards Hameron. I had trouble writing it, if that helps. Please don't be mean about it though, but i welcome your opinions.

PROLOGUE 

House groaned inwardly as he limped down the hall towards his patients room. He could never understand it... eight years of avoiding all contact with his patients, yet suddenly he found himself visiting almost every patient in order to knock some sense into them. It was like karma's idea of a really bad joke... or a scene from a TV drama.

This visit was for their patient of the week, 23 year old college student, Sam. House's ducklings, Cameron, Chase and Foreman had stumbled upon the diagnosis a few hours earlier- terminal liver cancer that had spread to his bones and brain. Normally a diagnosis, even a crappy one that would inevitably lead to the patient's death anyway, was a cause for House to go home, play his piano and drink half a bottle of scotch with a couple of Vicodin.

Unless your patient is Sam, who was steadfastly in the 'Denial' stage of the five stages of dying, occasionally toeing the line to the 'Anger' portion. His determination to find a treatment, any treatment had already annoyed Foreman to no end. Chase's solution was to live by House's philosophy and avoid the patient, and Cameron... well, Cameron had been his shoulder to cry on, unflinchingly accepted the brunt of his anger for them not diagnosing him sooner, and then had promised to look into some experimental treatments that _if_ they worked, would only give him a few extra weeks.

Hence, House found himself on his way to Sam's room, when he could have been on his way home to watch TV. The last thing he needed was for Cameron to get attached to _another _dying patient. He swore that girl would be the death of him one day.

"Who are you?"

House suppressed a smirk as he entered the room. Maybe he should make a deal with Wilson that _he _gets paid ten bucks every time a patient asks who he was. He was sick of paying out Wilson for 'thank you's.'

"I'm Dr. House," he answered the kid and his eyes widened in recognition.

"So you do exist."

"For today anyway," House quipped then sighed. He was too tired to beat around the bush.

"Listen, do yourself a favour and accept the fact that we can't do anything for you. I get that it sucks, but that's life."

Sam stared at House determinedly. "You ever thought about death?"

"Everyone thinks about death. Even the people who say they're too busy enjoying life to think about death, are thinking about it. Why do you think they're 'enjoying life'?"

"But at 23? Did you think about death at twenty three?" Sam demanded.

House shrugged. "Sure."

Actually he wasn't sure, but he supposed he must have at some point. And the patient sure as hell wouldn't know otherwise.

"Death isn't actually scary, you know," he told him. "It's been made scary by conventional religion. All that drama about is there an afterlife? Who gives a damn? You won't, you'll be dead."

"Death is plenty scary. Especially at twenty-three when you've done nothing with your life to be remembered for and your leaving all your family and friends behind," Sam replied quietly.

"Good thing about being alone," House said casually. "You don't have to worry about all that crap."

Sam scoffed. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

House raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"It's impossible to 'be alone'," Sam argued. "There are always going to be people you come across, even for an instant, that can have an impact on you and that you can impact on their lives. But saying you're alone makes the idea of death less scary if you convince yourself you're leaving nothing behind. There are always people, Dr. House. There are always regrets and there is always fear of the unknown."

"Right," House drawled sceptically and to his surprise, Sam smiled.

"Five people, Dr. House. That have made an impact on your life and that you've impacted on theirs. Trust me, they're not that hard to find."

"Please, it sounds like your next question should be 'what's one item you'd bring to a desert island'?" House said sarcastically.

Sam shrugged. "More like the five people you'd pick who have affected you as a person."

"Easy. Angelina Jolie, and the rest of the world can die, for all I care."

However, the look on Sam's face made House uncomfortable and he swiftly made an executive decision to give up.

"Death sucks, but it happens to everyone. It's just happening to you sooner, and the sooner you make peace with that, the better," he told him and left the room.


	2. John House

**DISCLAIMER: House isn't mine.**

JOHN HOUSE

House drove home, sat at his piano and poured himself a glass of scotch, all the while attempting in vain to forget what Sam had said. Five people. Five people in the entire world who affect who you are as a person. Five... well, that was easy. House had treated hundreds of patients over his career who's lives he had impacted just by saving their lives.

'_That's not what he meant,'_ his subconscious answered him, sounding strangely like Wilson.

He abandoned the process of people he had impacted and wondered if Sam was right, and there were five people in the world who had impacted him? Five people who had changed his life. Impossible.

_He didn't say they had to change it for the better,_ the voice said and House grimaced. Well, that was easier.

The first name that popped into his head had definitely not changed his life for the better- his father.

The thing House had liked best about his childhood- or really, the only parts he had liked at all- were the parts when his father wasn't there. Because when he was there, no matter what Marine base he was stationed on throughout the globe, it was always the same.

John House was certainly never going to win Father of the Year, not if his son had been in charge of the voting anyway. To outsiders, it may have seemed that John House had the perfect family; a devoted and loving wife who was a great cook and homemaker, willing to follow her husband around the globe; and an intelligent, high achieving son.

To House though, his memories of his father consisted of ridiculously high expectations, little patience and no flexibility regarding what he expected from his family. Memories of ice baths, sleepless nights in the backyard, a whole summer of the silent treatment, and many hungry nights because of a two minute delay in reaching the dinner table.

It was because of his father, House knew, that explained some of his behaviour. As soon as he was old enough, House relished being able to rebel against his father and the strict routine he had established since childhood. In college, he actually enjoyed cheating, misbehaving and even expulsion because his father wasn't there and able to enforce punishment for bad results.

House knew Wilson included his disregard for both authority and punctuality in the list of damages John's parenting had caused, and it was possible, House admitted. Perhaps even now, he was still finding ways to rebel against his father.

One thing House knew definitely stemmed from John's parenting skills, or lack thereof, was his ability to form stable relationships with people. When you moved all over the world; and one parent treated you like dirt, and the other one pretended not to see it; how were you supposed to trust yourself to another person? House wasn't sure if his parents were happy, and he knew his mother had practically given up hope for a daughter-in-law and grandchildren.

Parents were the only people in the world supposed to love you unconditionally. They're the ones that teach you to open yourself to other people and become vulnerable. House had never experienced that, so he stopped letting people in. It was just easier that way.

The last time he had seen his father was about a year ago, when his parents had stopped by the hospital on their way to Europe. House remembered it had been just after he had bought the bike. He had tried so hard to avoid seeing his parents, but it had happened in the end.

That visit was a perfect example of his father's two-sided personality. House had inwardly flinched when Cameron had entered the office whilst his parents were in the room, in case his father said something to her, or about her.

And in a way he had. He had told Cameron that House had told them all about her, a joke, he told her, but actually a slight dig to his son that he never told them anything. House remembered how Cameron had blushed slightly, that she had actually been stupid enough to believe that House would tell his parents about her. He had actually felt sorry for her, enough to mention a little bit about his parents to her afterwards.

That was how his father did it. Now that his son was an adult and he had no power to punish him anymore, John House kept him in line by just little comments here and now, which didn't seem like anything to anyone eavesdropping, but House knew what they were intended for.

He just bought a bike- _oh, the one in the handicapped zone?_

Nothing or no one special in his life at the moment? _There's never anything to tell._

House was still _slightly_ sensitive about his missing thigh muscle? _You don't know how lucky you are._

It was his father's voice he heard in his head, that told him that he didn't deserve happiness. His voice that told him that if he let people in, he would destroy them. His voice that told House that the things- or people- that might actually make his life feel worthwhile outside of work weren't possible. And House always listened.

House wasn't sure how he had impacted upon his father's life, but supposed it was just the same way House had always felt about John when he missed House's piano recitals, or award nights at school, or lacrosse games- a disappointment.


	3. Lisa Cuddy

DISCLAIMER: House is not mine.

LISA CUDDY

House thought perhaps Cuddy was the only authority figure House actually liked- ever. He thought this could have something to do with the fact that when he first met her, she hadn't been an authority figure.

Well, that and the fact she was hot with big breasts.

House could admit to himself that he liked making inappropriate comments around Cuddy, to see the reaction. He liked annoying her and thinking up the most insane, elaborate medical treatments and announcing them at the most inconvenient time. It was fun.

But besides entertaining him, how had Cuddy impacted him as a person? Had she? Had he impacted hers besides causing big dents in the hospital budget for repairs, and probably giving her high blood pressure?

Well, he supposed that Cuddy's decision to hire him was a big impact- on both their lives; considering it came after their one night stand. Apart from a job where he had more freedom than he would have anywhere else to treat patients his way; that one night had had no lasting effects. Well, the job and his freedom to make jokes at Cuddy's expense. If he said half the stuff he'd said to and about Cuddy over the years to any other female administrator who he _hadn't _slept with, he would have been fired years ago. So, in a way, it was a good thing they had slept together that one time so many years ago before working together, House mused.

House leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, twirling his cane between his fingers. If he was honest with himself, Cuddy's recent quest for motherhood had got him thinking. Not about Cuddy per se, but about what his equivalent of a baby was.

Cuddy's quest was inspired the sudden realisation that life was short. And she was running out of time to fulfil one of her greatest desires- to be a mother. After climbing as high as she could, professionally, Cuddy had realised that it wasn't enough.

And that had got House thinking. What did he have? Professionally, he had a high (albeit slightly insane) reputation, and reliable team of subordinates. _And tenure_, his subconscious added smugly. But personally? He had _a _friend, but friends weren't high on House's list of things needed for an accomplished life. But anything else, and the thought of anything else was marred by his father's voice in his head and the pain in his thigh.

The jarring pain he felt in his thigh reminded House that Cuddy had been there, when it all happened. She had recommended the surgery that ultimately saved his leg, but took away his life; and House knew she even now felt guilt over that. House popped a few Vicodin, and wondered if that was why Cuddy let him get away with so much, out of guilt? He highly doubted that, but it was a thought all the same.

Was that then what his impact on Cuddy's life came down to? Guilt?

House then made a big call. Cuddy certainly wasn't a friend, but she was more than simply his boss too. She and Stacy had been friends, but she wasn't just his ex-girlfriend's friend, either. The closest House could come to a title, was to suppose that if Cuddy was not his boss, she could be a friend.

And he supposed that dealing with him on a daily basis was good practice for Cuddy, if she ever got her kid. In truth, Cuddy was someone he could always get attention and recognition from, which is something House always craved in his childhood.

House had been assured by Cuddy many times that the only reason she kept him around was because, as much of a financial liability to the hospital that he was; he was great publicity. And he had assured her just as many times that the only reason _he _stuck around was because of her great cleavage.

But as much as he made fun of the fact that Cuddy had become an administrator now as opposed to a doctor, he did have some level of respect for her. And he supposed she must have some respect for him too, after going up against Vogler and sacrificing all that money to save his job; and then fabricating evidence to save him from Tritter's rampage and stop him from going to gaol.

House smiled to himself as he thought about that. He got a strange satisfaction from knowing he contributed more to Cuddy's life than high stress levels.


	4. Stacy Warner

DISCLAIMER: House is not mine.

STACY WARNER

Stacy.... there was a giant hole in House's leg to show just how Stacy impacted upon House's life- and it definitely was not for the better. What wasn't so easy to find, or to cover up, was the giant hole she left in House's ability to love and trust other people.

Stacy was his first love, he was more than able to admit that. Five years, and most of them happy, House supposed, being no great measurer of happiness. Stacy had seemed like his perfect match for the longest time. She was sarcastic, career driven and like him, had no desire and saw no need for marriage or children. She understood that House was House, and she couldn't change that. For the first time, perhaps ever, House had found himself able to open up to someone, not be afraid to talk about such emotions as love.

And then... there was the infarction. Three days, and Stacy had shattered his trust in other people, and convinced him that love was unneeded, unwanted and unnecessary. House had trusted her, literally put his life in her hands. She had known he didn't want the operation, but as she told him repeatedly in the last few, failing months of their relationship afterwards, "Because she loved him" she had made the call, against his wishes, and changed his life as he knew it.

And then after, there was just so much guilt. It hung in the air, and House could see that although she was trying to act normal, she could barely look at him. And she could never bring herself to touch his leg. At first there was the excuse of not wanting to cause him any pain; but after a few weeks, that excuse didn't work anymore. She encouraged him to do rehab on his leg, but once she stopped believing that he could do it, House could hear it in her voice and what little motivation he'd had for it to begin with had vanished.

It was a fair call to say that House blamed her. For the infarction, for the cane, for the Vicodin addiction. And when she'd finally left, he blamed her for that too and his inability to open up to anyone else.

And then suddenly, five years later, she'd waltzed back into his life, complete with the husband she'd said she never wanted, never needed, but now wanted House to save his life.

House had done his best to leave an impact on hers and Marc's life. If she was going to come back, it was the least he could do. To this day, he had no idea if Stacy and Marc's marriage had survived their stay in Princeton; but he hadn't given it much thought since she'd left.

House admitted that Stacy's return had thrown him for a loop. His life was carefully split into two categories: BI (Before Infarction) and AI (After Infarction). Stacy, for the most part was very much BI, and the short part of their relationship AI, House didn't count, given that he spent most of that time pushing Stacy away. And then suddenly, AI, she had reappeared.

House knew Stacy had loved him, _did _love him, and he knew now that they weren't as right for as each other as he'd once thought. How had she put it? "With you I was lonely."

Even BI, House had been, and always been, a very closed person. With Stacy, because he loved her, he had made an effort to open up more- it just wasn't enough. After she left, even when he met someone else, he put very little effort into communication. He wasn't willing to go through that again.


	5. James Wilson

DISCLAIMER: House is not mine.

JAMES WILSON

When House had bailed Wilson out of gaol at a medical conference in Louisiana, it was simply out of boredom. He couldn't have imagined then that Wilson would become his best friend, provider of food, the one constant in his life, and his conscience.

And he could admit that Wilson did act as his conscience much of the time. There were things that House had done, said or thought about doing or saying; and only Wilson had stopped him.

House knew that Wilson, in his own way, wanted to change him; or at least wanted to believe that he was capable of change or humanity. He wanted House to see his patients as he saw his own... as people, really. But Wilson still had his bad habits, as people do, and House was more than willing to find them. His extravagant caring for not just his patients, but all people; Cameron was like that too, which is why House suspected that Wilson had pushed him to hire her in her interview, in a hope that he would have an ally against House's more insane ideas and treatment of patients.

House was amazed at Wilson's ability to understand why he did the things he did. Of course, he had never told him that, but sometimes Wilson would launch into his little speeches about House's behaviour and House had to admit that he was right. Of course, Wilson's greatest asset was that it was usually through him that House would stumble onto the final diagnosis for a lot of his cases.

Of course, sometimes when Wilson would begin talking in his 'this is the real reason you're doing this' voice, House just wanted to hit him. Not hard, he amended mentally, but just enough to shut him up. Seriously, if he was already doing it, did he have to know why? House remembered the entire time Stacy and Marc were at the hospital, Wilson was always offering his (unneeded) opinion. Yes, House may have broken into Stacy's therapist office and made a copy of her treatment notes; but it was done now, get over it! And it had served a purpose anyway.

House sobered slightly as he recalled the case that had happened in the midst of _that _debacle- his idiot stalker. Then he shook his head, determined not to recall those events.

So Wilson's impact on House's life was he got free food a lot, and he was forced to examine the choices he made and his relationships with people. But had he had an impact upon Wilson?

House was willing to bet quite a bit that if he asked Wilson that question, he would respond with a sarcastic comment about House treating him as a bank teller, or a vending machine, or something to that affect. And yes, House did make fun of Wilson- a lot. Usually about his many ex-wives, or the reason why they were 'ex' wives, but House was sure there had been a few serious moments in their friendship.

He racked his brain for a few moments, and tried to convince himself that he was having trouble thinking of a occurrence due to the alcohol he had consumed; as opposed to the lack of occurrences.

He smiled to himself as he thought of one- when Wilson had confided in him about his missing brother, after a case involving that homeless woman. House had been very proud of himself (and slightly awkward) that he had not made a single sarcastic comment during his friend's revelation... well, not that he could recall anyway.

Well, that was... his dad, Cuddy, Stacy, Wilson... four people who House considered having an impact upon his life, and who he was reasonably sure he had impacted upon their lives. Sam had challenged him to find five. So that left one more.... who else could there be?


	6. Allison Cameron

DISCLAIMER: House is not mine.

ALLISON CAMERON

_Cameron?_

House frowned in bewilderment, wondering how on earth Cameron's name had entered his head. Then he glanced at the half empty bottle of bourbon sitting on his desk and shrugged. Well, he had had a lot to drink, but that still didn't explain why of all the people's names to enter his head, it was _Cameron._

Yes, she had worked for him for three years; and yes, they had had one ill-fated date; and yes, she was the only person who had ever quit that he had asked to return; but there was no way Cameron had ever had an impact on him or his life. Was there?

For the first six months that she had worked for him, he hadn't given her much second notice. She worked quietly to prove herself, had good suggestions for differentials, and dealt well with the patients and their relatives (this was before House knew about her issues with death). She was pretty enough- it was what had caught House's eye in her interview, that made her stand out from all the other applicants.

And then suddenly, Cameron seemed to be in the middle of everything. More and more she caught his eye, the way she moved, interacted with Chase and Foreman, the way she had silently taken over the duties of getting House's morning coffee and dealing with the mail. And that had led to a whole chain of events that House didn't really care to remember.

House sighed with frustration, irritated with himself for, once again, having Cameron in his thoughts. Was she really that attractive anyway? Seriously? Yes, she had those big blue-gray eyes that seemed grey in some lights, blue in others, even slightly green if the lighting was dim. And yes, she had that creamy snow-white type skin, that seemed impossibly smooth. And then there was her hair; the dark chocolate brown tresses that had flashes of red when she was in sunlight. The locks that were sometimes straight, sometimes curly; always in professional and simple hairdos. Her smile that didn't get seen often, but when it did, could light up a room and was infectious. Though not as infectious as her laughter, which House hadn't heard as much as he'd like to, unless he was eavesdropping on her casual conversations with Chase and Foreman. Her very scent, which lingered on House's mind for days after inhaling it and which he could never quite identify what it reminded him of.

_Yes, she's clearly had no impact on you, _the small voice in House's head snarked and he scowled.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath. He stood up, intending to go into the conference room for another cup of coffee; until he realised the lukewarm dregs left in the pot where the remainders of the brew that Cameron had made that afternoon. She had offered to make a fresh pot before leaving, once she saw that House intended to stay late. She did sometimes, even without telling him, he would just find it there in the midst of his musings; perhaps to tempt him for caffeine over alcohol. However, tonight House had refused her offer, telling her that he wasn't intending to be much longer. Now he wished he'd taken her up on her offer.

Resigning himself to the prospect of lukewarm leftovers, House dragged himself out to the conference room and stopped in surprise. There, on the bench, was a fresh, full, steaming pot of coffee, House's favourite brand and the sugar just standing ready and waiting next to House's favourite red mug.

House closed his eyes briefly and considered for a moment that maybe this was the impact Cameron had had on his life. A little coffee, answering mail... maybe Cameron had impacted on his life by simply making it a little more organised?

House was satisfied with that answer, and then had to consider his impact upon Cameron. He was her boss and... Well, mentor would be the word that fit best, but House doubted that was how Cameron would have classified it. But he had had fellows before, he had hired Chase before Cameron, yet it was Cameron's name that entered his head. Why her above Chase, Foreman or any other fellow House had taught over his career?

_Because she's the one who has affected you personally the most; and the one you've had the most impact upon, _his subconscious replied and House pondered that. How did you measure the impact you've had on someone? If he was to compare not just Cameron, but the Chase or Foreman of the present with their former selves that they had been at the beginning of their fellowship; it could be fair to say that House had taught them well- they were all twice the doctors they had been upon their arrival.

But had he really affected Cameron more than Chase or Foreman? House answered his own question immediately, of course he had. His memories of Cameron from the beginning of her fellowship were of a quiet, naive, woman, determined to prove herself, yet always second-guessing herself and her opinion, and to say giving bad news to patients families was her weak spot would be an understatement. Now, after three years, Cameron was definitely more confident, more assertive, and even seemed to be more content within herself and her own skin.

If House had to think of one case in the past year to demonstrate Cameron's growth, one name came to mind- Ezra Powell. House hadn't been lying when he'd told Cameron that he was proud of her after that case, and not just for what she had done after the diagnosis, either. At the time, it had been infuriating, but in retrospect, House respected her decision to stand up to him, even if she wasn't quite sure where she herself stood.

Cameron, House thought with a faint note of pride, was becoming independent, strong and... _Like you, _the small voice in his head finished, and House stilled at that thought. Was that then where Cameron was heading?

He knew, only after Wilson had let it slip one night recently after a few beers, that Cameron's feelings for him had been the first feelings she'd had for anyone since the death of her husband. House didn't know how long Wilson had been keeping that secret, but for some reason, House hadn't yet used it to mock Cameron. It didn't seem that funny.

House knew that Chase, and a few other male doctors had asked her out over the years, and she always politely refused. _That _was a mystery to House, he could admit. She was beautiful, single and smart, and he was sure she wanted to get remarried one day and have children- so why did he never hear of her dating? Of course, she had slept with Chase that one time... whilst high on meth... but even after her exposure, remained professional and unemotional.

_Could it have anything to do with the fact that you once told her that she was pretty much incapable of love, unless they were dying or damaged? _The voice asked, sounding more like Wilson than ever. House did feel a small surge of guilt at that thought. Had his comments, spoken so long ago, really have affected Cameron that much? That she was in danger of becoming like _him, _and not just in the medical aspects.

House, immediately sobered by that thought, stood up and grabbed his backpack.


	7. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER: House is not mine.

EPILOGUE 

Cameron was sound asleep when a sudden sound jarred her from her sleep. Unsure what was happening, she squinted blearily at the clock on her nightstand and moaned slightly. It was two o'clock in the morning, and Cameron could think of no logical reason for someone, _anyone _to be knocking on her door at that hour.

The knock on her front door came again, louder, slightly more insistent and Cameron fumbled in the dark to turn the bedside lamp on. She winced against the bright light that abruptly filled the room, and eyes still half closed, she grabbed a light wrap that lay on the end of her bed to cover up her pyjama pants and tank top. 

It only occurred to her as she left her now lit bedroom, and turned on the hall light, that there was someone who had reason to knock on her door in the middle of the night- the police. Terrifying thoughts of family members and friends in accidents or fires immediately conjured themselves up in Cameron's mind, and she quickened her pace to the door.

She blearily and hastily fumbled with the lock, and when she finally swung open the door to her apartment and saw who was on the other side, her panic subsided, replaced with annoyance.

"_House_?"

"Hi," he greeted her, and Cameron frowned suspiciously.

"Have you been drinking?"

"A little," he admitted.

"And you drove over here?" Cameron asked, an eyebrow raised.

House considered that for a second. "Maybe I've had smarter ideas than that," he said reluctantly.

Cameron gave him a brief smile, then rubbed her eyes wearily. "House, what do you want? It's two in the morning! Wait- is Sam ok?"

"Who's Sam?" House asked her, sincerely puzzled.

She rolled her eyes. "The patient," she reminded him gently and House nodded slightly.

Right... the whole reason he had stayed late, and the whole reason he was here.

"I just need to tell you something."

Cameron sighed. "Now? This couldn't wait, I don't know, seven hours until you come into work?"

House examined her carefully. He could see the pale green pyjama bottoms and tank top she wore, her hair was sleep tousled and more curly than House had seen it in awhile, and her eyes, seemingly gray at the moment, were wide and tired; yet the expression that she was watching him with was gentle, patient and slightly wary.

"I need you to promise me something."

Cameron had no clue what he was on about; and wondered if her boss was drunker than he seemed.

"Ok," she sighed.

"Promise me you'll let people in," he added and Cameron blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"Promise me... you'll forget everything I ever said to you on that date," he continued and Cameron was stunned.

She had done her best to forget that night, and she assumed House had too; and he never brought it up, unless he was making fun of her.

"I- I promise," she answered him finally, slightly dazed.

She stood there for a moment, wondering if he would say anything else. As she shifted her weight slightly, the light in the hall behind her caught her hair. To House, it had the same effect as the sunlight, alighting the flashes of red and turning her eyes green in an instant.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or something Sam had said to him that night, but House could never afterwards explain what drove him to what he did next. Taking Cameron completely by surprise, he abruptly dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers.

When he pulled away, Cameron's eyes were even wider and all the blood rushed to her face. House, for his part, felt a long-forgotten sensation in his gut, and inwardly winced. Dammit, he had enjoyed that far more than he would have like to. He immediately felt a desire to kiss her again, which was followed by a stab of fear. This was not a good sign.

So, in a moment of panic, House did the first thing that came to mind.

"Goodnight," he muttered, turned and walked away, leaving Cameron standing in her doorway, completely bewildered.

When she had recovered slightly, and House was long gone from her sight by then, Cameron shakily closed her front door and managed to find her way to her couch. Suddenly wide awake, she couldn't even form a coherent thought. She had thought about what it would be like to kiss House, of course, but not for a long time (actually, about six weeks which was a record achievement for her). But none of her daydreams had come close to the reality.

There was only two questions on Cameron's mind as she sank back amongst her couch cushions: What on earth had made House kiss her? And how on _earth_ was she supposed to react around him at work?

Actually, what Cameron wanted to know more than anything was... would she ever get the chance to experience that again?

THE END

SEQUEL: "Cameron's Choice"


End file.
